Time
by Ficalicious
Summary: What can become of something born in ash and smoke? All you really need is a little time.   Jack and Kate build a life. And they rebuild themselves along with it.


**Title: Time**

**Rating: NC17 – sexual situations etc**

**Summary: Post rescue fic. What can become of something born in ash and smoke? All you really need is a little time.**

Kate stirred sleepily on the couch.

She could hear the faint sounds of a TV; feel the rough fabric of the woollen blanket covering her lower half, the soft breeze from the open window.

Her stomach was full with something other than banana; that was a new sensation. And she didn't have sand worming its way into every single crevice in her body. She was clean. The clothes she had on weren't her own.

She felt someone gently tugging the blanket down her body. Strong, sure hands were moving under her legs and behind her neck, as if to lift her.

That was when things started to come back and make sense in her sleep addled brain.

The beach. The fire. The rescue boats coming. Shannon with Vincent, crying. Charlie and Claire with little Aaron. The rest of the survivors running up the shore to greet them. And there on deck was Sawyer and Michael and Walt and Jin.

Sun crying as she and Jin kissed. The hug Kate had been unable to refrain from giving Sawyer. No fire there anymore but still warmth. A friendship perhaps?

Sawyer, no longer with the cocky grin and the harsh words. An apology on his lips as he hugged her back. He was a hero now. Even an unwilling one deserved praise.

And turning around to see Jack and Locke and Hurley emerging from the jungle, looking filthy and wild, a boar carcass strung between them.

Kate slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the flickering light of the telly. She could make out a dark form above her, about to lift her.

"Jack?" she mumbled, moving to wipe sleep out of her eyes.

"Kate. I didn't mean to wake you." He moved back a bit and she could see the TV screen. Morgan Freeman was talking to Tim Robbins. What was that all about? Then Jack picked up a DVD case and looked at it.

"The Shawshank Redemption? Didn't think that would be your kind of movie." He offered her a soft smile before hitting stop and taking out the movie.

"Mmm," Kate mumbled sleepily. "I thought I might be able to get some hints." She joked lightly. Jack looked up at her sharply, a frown marring his kind face.

"You aren't going to prison Kate." He stated firmly. When he didn't say anymore Kate moved to roll over.

"What are you doing?" she squealed when she felt Jack pick her up.

"I'm putting you to bed, Kate." Jack drew out slowly, as if talking to a child.

"I'm fine here." She told him stubbornly. Jack just shook his head.

"Kate," he said firmly.

"Jack." She said just as firmly.

Kate saw a fire stir in Jack's eyes at that. She suddenly realised something. It wasn't just an exchange of names. It was a form of foreplay for them.

"Kate," he said a little lighter this time, giving her a small, unwilling smile.

"Jack," this time Kate couldn't hide her smile.

And there it was again. _Kate; Jack; yes! Yes! YES!_

"Look," he said finally. "I've got a big bed back there. I wouldn't feel right having it to myself with you out here cramped on the sofa."

"I like the couch fine. I don't mind, really."

"Well I mind."

"Jack, you've been nice enough as it is. Letting me crash here until…" she didn't finish that sentence. She knew that it would upset Jack. But she also didn't know how to finish it. _Until what? Until I'm caught and thrown in jail? Until I run again?_ She didn't know what the next day held for her or where she would be a week from today.

"Please." There was a desperate plea in his voice that Kate could not ignore.

"Fine. But if my fidgeting annoys the hell out of you don't complain to me about lack of sleep." She shifted herself off the couch.

"You don't fidget that much Kate." Jack smiled, flirtation hidden carefully behind his eyes.

Kate remembered how he knew that little fact.

Weeks and weeks of sleeping in close quarters on a deserted island meant that she knew a lot about Jack's own sleeping habits. Like the fact that he nearly always awoke in the middle of the night to check on the people around him. And that just before dawn he would seemingly sleepwalk across to some palm trees to relieve himself. Yes, she knew a lot about Jack and sleep.

Jack's cat, Zach, fell to the floor with the blanket as Kate stood and gave Jack a black look before stalking away.

"He likes you a lot better than he likes me." Jack sighed.

"It's only because I'm a pushover." Kate laughed.

And she followed Jack to his room, not for the first time wondering what she was doing here.

It seemed surreal; lying in a comfortable bed, the soft green glow of the clock on the bedside table. Beside her Jack slept.

He lay on his side facing her, one arm tucked under his head and the other reaching towards her.

Kate couldn't sleep. She lay flat on her back, her mind going a million miles a minute.

The wind chime tinkled in the soft breeze from the open window and the curtains rustled.

Kate wondered why she was still here. Why she was letting Jack get close to her. He'd only end up hurt. Either because she ran again or she was caught. Either way, her past was going to end up hurting him.

Jack stirred beside her and Kate turned to look at his profile. He really was good looking. His features were softened in sleep, even though a small frown marred his face. Kate wondered what he was dreaming.

Jack tensed and reached for Kate in his sleep. She tensed but let him pull her into his embrace.

With his arms firmly around her, Jack rolled onto his back with Kate nestled against his chest.

With a deep sigh he drifted back into deep sleep.

Kate lay there with her ear pressed to his chest. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat relaxing her as darkness took hold.

Legs entwined. Tangled in brown sheets and green duvet.

Warmth. Oh Kate was warm.

Sun browned arms wrapped around her. Bodies intimately caressing. A hardness pressed against her thigh. Hands spread across her back. Her hands caressing a solid chest.

Safe here. And comfortable. And safe. Oh so safe. No thoughts. But wait. Who is that with her? Jack?

His warm breath across her hair, lips touching her head. And her breath fanning across his chest. _Oh God! Do I have morning breath?_

She tried to gently extricate herself from Jack's embrace without waking him. The intimacy of their embrace aside, she was sure he would be embarrassed to wake and find her aware of his…erm…condition.

However, luck was not on her side. As soon as she moved to pull away Jack's eyes cracked open. He held her tighter.

"Where're you going?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

"Nowhere. Just to the bathroom." Kate said quietly, hoping he would fall back into slumber.

"Mmm." He grumbled. "Go later, 'm all comfy." He wiggled a bit against her, burrowing his head in her neck. Kate bit back a moan at the sensations assaulting her. It had been so long since she had been this close to a man. So long since she'd had intimate human contact.

So she conceded to Jack's sleepy pleas and relaxed again, feeling the hard shell she had spent so long creating to protect herself crumble to pieces before this man who refused to let her go.

When Kate awoke again the room was light. She ran the back of her hand across her eyes.

Jack smiled when she finally made eye contact with him.

"Morning." He smiled.

"Morning." Kate said softly. She looked around the room, not really ready to make eye contact with Jack. She felt vulnerable enough with him in normal situations, but first thing in the morning? There was no way she could keep her mind on protecting him, or herself from her past.

"Do I remember practically tying you into bed this morning?" he asked with a shy grin, dipping his head and running a hand over his hair.

"Um… sort of." Kate mumbled, focused on getting out of the bed. She threw back the sheet and caught a look at her pjs. She hit reality hard. She had no clothes.

The one's she'd had on the rescue boat were filthy and ruined. The hospital staff had thrown them away. And then Jack had come to her with some of his.

She looked at the cotton boxers that almost reached her knees and the blue t-shirt. They smelt of Jack.

"It's a good look," he smiled, indicating her attire. She tried to smile back.

Kate suddenly felt very vulnerable. A heavy weight was pushing on her insides. Not just the usual cocktail of guilt and remorse that she had been carrying with her for years, but an overwhelming sense of fear.

On the island they could have died any number of ways. Starvation, disease, drowning, eaten by a monster. By all rights they all should have died when the plane crashed. But there was a sort of jungle law out there. Survival of the fittest. And there was a comfort there. None of the complicated laws and rules of society. As Sawyer had often said; they were in the wild.

And now she was back in the Real World, with no possessions, nowhere to go and on the run from the law. The hospital knew her real name. She had been too dazed to try and lie. And they knew that she was staying with one Doctor Jack Shepherd. They could come and get her at any time.

She was alone in the world. And to finally accept that, to acknowledge it after all this time, was like pouring salt into an open wound.

She burst into tears. Deep, dry sobs that caught in her throat and chest and made it hard to breathe.

Kate felt Jack take her into his arms. Felt his soothing hands on her back. Heard his gentle words of comfort, letting her know he was with her, but not telling her not to cry. Just letting her get it out.

It was some time before she noticed his tears mingling with hers on her cheeks.

The days melted into one another, drifting by unnoticed, much like they had on the island. Jack and Kate established a sort of routine. The days spent on menial tasks that seemed wonderful after months of not being able to do them.

Washing the dishes, doing the laundry, even the most boring thing was cherished.

Kate found herself taking half hour showers, only emerging when the water ran icy cold and would laugh when Jack went in after her and had no hot water.

On the second day Jack ushered Kate into his car and took her shopping for clothes. Kate was hesitant to let him pay but because they had been assumed dead all bank accounts had been frozen and she was a felon so she really didn't have anything to her name.

They continued this way for a while. They spent the day in a quiet way, doing anything that took their fancy. Jack took Kate and his mother out for lunch one day, the two getting along quite well. Jack and Kate spent evenings talking, watching TV and sharing dinner. They created an intimate, if not physical, relationship.

They continued to share a bed. Neither mentioned anything about it, just kept with the routine.

It was about a month after they had been rescued that Kate started to wake at night, finding Jack pressed tightly against her. She could feel his hardness, hear the quickness of his breath, and _knew_ what he was dreaming.

She said nothing about it. Acted as if she hadn't noticed, even when, upon occasion Jack would hastily leave the bed in the morning with a change of pants and race into the shower. Once she had held her hand to the gap at the bottom of the door. Cold air blew out.

Over the course of time Kate continued to wonder when she was going to be taken away. When were her jailers going to bash down the door and carry her away? She mentioned it casually to Jack one day. He was silent a long time before looking her in the eye.

"I took care of it." And that was all he would say.

One day Jack kissed her. Right out of the blue. They were sitting in his garden at sunset. He just reached over, caressed her cheek and drew her lips to his.

Every sensation seemed heightened. The stubble on his cheeks. The strength contained in his hand softly holding her face. The taste of coffee and chocolate and fruit on his lips.

Kate didn't pull away. She wanted, _needed _this. She felt about Jack the way she believed he felt about her.

Somehow she found herself on her back on Jack's bed. On their bed.

His hands and lips were everywhere. Her shirt was abandoned. Jack's followed soon after.

And then there it was. The meeting of bodies. The connection, intimacy in its purest form. And pleasure. Sure and real.

Jack gave her so much pleasure. He revelled in her moans, her gasps, the way her toes curled into the sheets and she cried out his name when he brought her to release.

Afterwards, as Jack lay asleep with his head pillowed on her breasts, Kate thought of the island. Of the turn of events that brought them together. Of what it took for them to finally open to each other and give in to what they really wanted.

All it had really taken was time.


End file.
